WBY Runaway
by wildblueyonder6
Summary: Jamie!verse .AU Dean 27, Sam 23, Adam 17, Jamie 9– John. Pick your age. Contains parental spanking, please don't read if that offends. Just to let you know this is a modified event in my own life. I didn't get my butt smacked, but mom still doesn't know.


Title: Runaway

Characters: John, Dean, Sam, Adam, and Jamie Winchester (OC) AU

Summary: Some of you wanted Jamie younger .AU (As usual) Dean 27, Sam 23, Adam 17, Jamie 9– big daddy John….mmmm pick your age. I know the ages are a little off compared to other fics. Sorry about that – my timelines are all over the place because what started out as a one shot now is a whole verse. All mistakes are my own. Contains parental spanking, please don't read if that offends you. Just to let you know…this is a modified event in my own life. I didn't get my butt smacked, but my mother still doesn't know about it.

XXX

Jamie was mad. His father was being an unreasonable …meanie. He knew some other words to say, words that his father would most definitely take offence to and quite possibly take his hand to his butt as well. But he was barely comfortable thinking those words and he sure didn't want to take the chance in accidently spewing one out. He was in a foul mood so he figured that Uncle Sam was a meanie, his Gramps was a real meanie and even Uncle Adam – well he was pretty mean too.

All Jamie had wanted was to go and play with JR. Kids play – it's what they do. But Dad had said that they needed to stay home today because hay was being delivered and everyone needed to help out. Moving a huge shipment of hay to the barn loft was hard, sweaty work, even with his strong uncles and Gramps helping out. Jamie hated hay. It got stuck in your hair and it made him sneeze. It could be dusty and sometimes it was scratchy. The bailing twine hurt his hands, even when he was wearing gloves. The bales were 70 pounds and he only weighed about that so no matter how much he tried to help, he really couldn't. Dad knew that too but he insisted that Jamie could still do the sweeping or run and get water for his uncles, father and grandfather. Or make PBJ sandwiches. Basically, Jamie was a serving boy at the mercy of his family.

And he really wasn't needed, more being used. He had said that to Dad and Dad had said true, he was being used but Jamie was being helpful and no one had the time to run him to JR's anyway. JR lived on a small farm not too far from the Winchesters. It was maybe a ten-minute drive or, if they decided to ride the horses, it was maybe a half hour hack.

Thinking of the horses, Jamie looked out in the field where his fat little pony Po was greedily nibbling the end of the hay that had been put out that morning. Po was a nice pony; sweet, safe and kind but he only knew one speed, slow…or maybe two, slower. Plus Po had picked up a stone yesterday and he had a stone bruise. Po was fine, and would be fine but Jamie couldn't ride him while he was sore. Riding Po to JR's house by himself would be frowned upon – but he might have been able to convince his father to let him go. Po would never let anything happen to Jamie. Horse people said he was "bomb proof" and that was the case. You could throw a firecracker at him and he would never try to dislodge Jamie from his back. Po was also a great teacher though because although he would never throw Jamie, he had been known to dump him in the dirt when Jamie pulled too roughly or kicked too hard. Po was at least thirty years old and Jamie figured he knew more about boys and riding than Jamie knew about horses. But Po was lame so riding him was not going to happen.

He moved his gaze to his father's black gelding, Mac. Mac was just three and gorgeous. He was big but going to be bigger, he was smart and although was well started under saddle, he was still a youngster, prone to flights of fancy and silliness. Jamie had been on a lot of trails with his dad riding Mac and him on Po. Sometimes Mac would shy at something stupid like a bird, or pretend that a stick on the trail was a snake, but his father never had a problem riding him and Dad hadn't been riding since he was two like Jamie had.

If Jamie couldn't ride Po, maybe he could ride Mac?

Jamie thought about it for about thirty seconds. He was only nine, but he was a good rider, his family was busy and refused to take him to JR's, he wasn't able to ride Po, but his father _might _have let him ride Po to JR's. He wouldn't let him ride Mac there though. Still, they would all be busy most of the day and Mac usually liked to stand in the trees so not seeing him in the pasture was not at all unusual. And despite his father's insistence that Jamie stay around, he wasn't really needed and he doubted anyone would ask about him. He could just tell them that he wanted to play some video games in his room. They would be happy not to have him underfoot and he could ride to JR's play for a bit, ride home and no one be none the wiser. He wouldn't even need a saddle, just a bridle and a rock to jump on the black gelding, then when he came back, slip off the bridle either leave it in the woods to pick up tomorrow or if it was safe, he could drop it back in the tack room and scamper back up to his room.

What a great idea!

Jamie jumped up and headed for the house unable to wait to start his plan!

The hay arrived at 9am. The barn was huge and the hayloft was big too – it would take several hours to unload, stack and make sure the hay was placed carefully in the barn. Plus they had two extra stalls that they could pack with hay. It was important to buy it while they could, while it was cheap and plentiful and store as much as possible so that it was available when they needed it. They had to make sure there was enough air circulating around the hay and that it was clean and free of mold. Cows didn't mind moldy hay but horses could get sick.

Jamie figured he could leave by 9:15, be at JR's by 9:45- play till 11:30 and be home by noon. By then the hay job should be just about done and Jamie would have the rest of the afternoon to do whatever he wanted.

Step one: Implement the plan:

"Hey, Dad?" Jamie asked just as the big hay truck pulled up to the barn. "I kind of have an upset stomach. Do you mind if I hang inside this morning? Maybe watch a movie or two?" The upset stomach was a touch of genius.

His father worriedly touched Jamie's forehead, "You feel alright – no fever."

"Nah, nothing like that… just a grumbly tummy. I can play video games or watch TV in my room but I'll be fine."

His father looked relieved, "Okay – take it easy. If you need something, yell out the window or come on down. I expect we'll be done around 12 or 12:30. Get some rest if you can." His father dropped an arm to Jamie's shoulder and scooted him toward the house and then headed back to the huge truck where his brother's and father were already talking with the hay guy – signing papers or invoices or whatever they did before they actually started working.

Step two: Jamie went in the front door, through the kitchen, grabbing an apple off the table and out the back. He snuck in behind the barn quickly grabbing Mac's bridle off the hook in the tack room. A quick look to the right and left and using the fence, some trees and the fact that the barn was between him and the hay truck he made it to the tree line. Just as he knew, Mac stood quietly in the early morning heat swishing flies with his tail and looking alertly at Jamie.

"Hey, Mac." Jamie said quietly, keeping the bridle behind his back and offering the apple. Mac wasn't the kind of horse to run away but Jamie figured an apple bribe would be a smart way to start his ride off. Mac walked over to Jamie's outstretched hand and then gently nuzzled his palm, lips velvety soft. A moment later he had the apple bitten in half and dropped the juicy sloppy other half back in Jamie's palm. Jamie quickly threw the reins over Mac's neck and then gave him the other half of the apple.

Mac quietly ate, slobbering apple juice and spit contentedly. When he finished, Jamie carefully put the bridle on and Mac obliged by dropping his head. It was hard to put the headstall behind the big black's head even with Mac's help but it was doable. Then Jamie looked around for a place to mount the horse. A log not too far from where he was standing looked promising…. he would still need to jump but if Mac would stay still, he could do it. He lead Mac to the stump, stood on said stump, grabbed a handful of mane with his left hand and vaulted himself up on the black's shiny back.

Mac didn't seem to be too concerned, but neither was he worried about listening either. He just started walking off through the trees with Jamie still scrambling up on his back. "Whoa, Mac." But Mac continued his amble through the forest. Finally, with a huge grunt and an even bigger effort, Jamie pulled himself up and sat astride the big black gelding. Once there he asked the horse to stop properly and the black did, standing quietly chomping his bit but eager to go wherever Jamie wanted to go.

The path was well marked and Jamie knew the way so he clucked to Mack and offered a little kick that would have had Po plodding off at a slow walk.

This was not the effect it had on Mac.

Mac jumped at the heels hitting his side and took off at a brisk lope, not quite a gallop but surely not a walk. Jamie laughed to himself; at this rate he would be at JR's in 15 minutes!

The path was easy to follow and Jamie felt confident with Mac under him. It was so amazing to be riding so fast – poor little Po could barely heave his fat body around unless Jamie kicked him half to death. Jamie smiled, he loved Po and never kicked him half to death but this? This was riding! A big horse, strong muscles under Jamie's small form and the rush of wind in his face. It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Suddenly out of know where he came to a tree that must have fallen in the most recent storm. It was a big tree, old and mature, maybe three or four feet around and would probably take hours to cut through to make the path ride able again.

Jamie had jumped Po before but as far as he knew, Mac hadn't jumped outside of silly pranks and stunts in the field. Jamie tried to slow him down to stop and see if there was a way around it but then realized that if they didn't have enough impulsion, they would never clear the tree, slowing down might cause a wreck of monumental proportions so he did the next best thing. He leaned over, grabbed a larger hunk of mane and pressed himself to Mac. The inexperienced gelding took off a stride too soon and Jamie was completely unprepared for that little snafu. It appeared that maybe Mac was too because at the last moment the horse seemed to realize he would need far greater effort to jump the tree than he expected.

The resulting explosion of powerful hindquarters threw Jamie high up on Mac's neck. Bareback, with no stirrups and nothing more than a handful of mane and a vise like grip off his thighs on sweaty horse was not enough.

It may have had been enough if Mac took the tree properly. Or if Jamie had been more prepared but as it was the landing sent Jamie even further up Mac's neck and the unfamiliar feel of rider on neck scared the green horse who almost stumbled, righted himself and then jigged quickly to the left. It was the last move that unseated Jamie who stubbornly stayed on the right.

Horse left. Boy right.

Boy in the dirt. Horse galloping off in the direction of the path.

Jamie landed on his back and the rush of air out of his lungs scared him for a second or two. _Breathe, breathe, breathe_…it was something Jamie was programmed to do but for some reason his body refused. It was maybe one of the scariest sensations he had ever felt in his young life. It felt like hours later but Jamie figured it was only seconds when his body figured out what it needed and a huge gulp of air invaded his lungs. He lay there stunned for a moment and then noticed the pattern of light through the trees, the scent of the forest and the fading pounding of hooves as Mac left for parts unknown.

"Fuck."

Yes, he thought it and he said it. It was the first time though. The word rolled off of his tongue unbidden and he darted his head to the right and left to make sure no one heard him and then he checked to make sure he wasn't struck by lighting but that didn't happen either. The ground below him was just as hard. The birds continued their chirps and the earth didn't open up and swallow him.

A moment later it occurred to him that he wished it would. Death by earthquake or lightening strike seemed preferable to the death he envisioned for himself if he didn't catch Mac and get home soon. Really soon. The sound of Mac's hooves were no longer audible so where had the gelding gone? Jamie had no idea.

Jamie sat up, wiggled his toes and his fingers in assessment. It turned out that being dumped by tiny Po was a lot easier for a kid to handle than flying off his father's 16 hand horse. That being said, he was none the worse for wear. A little scratched and his tail bone hurt a little, mostly it was his back that was sore but he stood, rolled his shoulders and determined he was fine and set out in the direction of Mac.

Fifteen minutes later he found the gelding contentedly munching grass in JR's paddock with Jeff Banner and JR standing by the fence. Jeff was on a cell phone.

Jamie had no doubt as to who he was talking to.

Jeff motioned to Jamie and Jamie reluctantly headed in his direction. JR raced out into the field to meet him.

"Dude, I can hear your dad yelling through the phone!" JR was breathless from the run, short blond hair curling up on the nape of his neck with sweat.

"Is Mac okay?" Jamie asked still walking toward Jeff.

"Yeah, he's fine. He broke the reins though and got a few scratches on himself. He also jumped _in _to the field! What kind of horse jumps a five foot fence into a field!"

"The kind who jumps a four foot log like it's a damn Olympic fence, that's who." Jamie spoke wryly.

"Your dad's on his way, I'm pretty sure he should be here in like five minutes. I think he's yelling and driving though. I'm not sure if that will slow him down or speed him up. " JR commented.

"Thanks for the update." Jamie said and then bumped JR a little bit harshly with his shoulder. All that did was cause his shoulder to hurt and cause JR to grin. By now they had reached Jeff Banner, who was just shutting his cell phone firmly with a click.

"You all right, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"I checked over Mac. He looks okay but he might be sore tomorrow, that horse looks like he's been put through the ringer." Jeff nodded in Mac's direction. The gelding looked okay to Jamie and as far as being sore tomorrow, he had no doubt he and Mac would be in the same position. Except his father would probably poultice Mac's legs with liniment and bandages and maybe give him a nice warm mash, the only warming Jamie could expect was his ass up against his father's hand.

A moment later the old red pick up dragging their horse trailer, pulled into the Banner's drive and stuttered to a stop just outside of their barn.

Dad jumped out followed closely by Gramps. Figures – naturally Dad would bring Gramps along as backup.

"You okay?" Dad reached his side in a moment feeling the back of his head for lumps, running a hand down his body.

Jamie shrugged off his father's hands. "'M fine."

"Mac?"

Jamie nodded to the field where the horse was grazing contentedly. "I haven't had the chance to check him over, but he's not lame or anything. "

"What happened?"

"I borrowed Mac for a hack through the woods…since Po was lame. There was a huge tree down about halfway here so Mac and I jumped it. It would have been okay but…"

Dad interrupted," You mean that gargantuan monster that fell last week?"

Jamie shrugged, "I dunno, maybe."

"Christ, Jamie, I've seen horses jump smaller Cross Country fences on the Olympics."

"He cleared it just fine, Dad. I'm fine - we just parted ways after."

His father ran a hand through his hair, "Damn it, Jamie! – You were determined to come and play with JR weren't you?"

Jamie glanced at Jeff and JR Banner who were watching the scene play out near the front of their paddock.

Jamie lowered his gaze to the ground and softly muttered, "Maybe."

"So this…." Dad waved his hand around the barn, Mac and Jamie, in a vague motion that was really stupid because "this" was nothing – just the Banner's house and farm, "was nothing but a ploy? 'Dad, I'm sick. Dad, I'm going to watch TV. Blah, blah, blah' and what it really was 'Dad I'm gonna steal your horse and disobey you!'" His father almost roared the last part.

Jamie took a step back and found himself running into the solid wall that was Gramps. Gramps clamped a hand on his shoulder, "Where's his saddle, somewhere down that path?" Gramps sounded deceptively quiet and Jamie was happy for the chance to answer somebody who wasn't screaming at him.

"It's home, I rode him bareback."

"AND YOU DID THIS ALL BAREBACK!" There was no way that wasn't a Winchester bellow of rage. Jamie tried to back up again but there was nowhere to go.

His father turned to Gramps. "Hold him, Dad, I'm gonna catch my horse." Dad turned away and slid under the fence striding toward Mac like he might just leave a scorched mark in his wake. Mac wandered up to his father begging to be scratched. Dad ran his hands down the horse's legs stopping for a moment apparently to judge if there was any heat or bumps. There was a lump in Jamie's throat as he watched. It hadn't occurred to him that Mac could be hurt. His father attached a lead rope to the bit, since the reins were broken somewhere along the trail and gently lead the horse out of the field, past Jamie and up to the horse trailer. The Banners had already dropped the back down and Mac loaded easily and Jamie could hear the contented munching of the horse on fresh hay that must have been recently put in the hay net.

"Thanks for the call, Jeff."

Jeff Banner nodded, "Not a problem, Dean. No harm done."

"Well, not yet." Gramps said low behind Jamie. Jamie gulped. He was so screwed.

Gramps pushed him toward Jeff Banner obviously expecting something, "I'm sorry, Mr. Jeff." Jamie said after looking at his grandfather's dark scowling eyes. Jeff Banner nodded solemnly and then turned to his son, "You didn't know anything about this did you?"

JR blanched, "Well, I knew Jamie might come over but I didn't know….I didn't know he would take Mac and half kill himself."

"You better hope you are telling the truth, boy."

Jamie interjected, "He is Mr. Jeff. JR didn't know. "

"Good for him, not so good for you though," His grandfather remarked as he shoved him in the general direction of the truck and Jamie darted toward it, trying to make it to the middle seat before his father caught him. He wasn't quite fast enough. His dad grabbed him as he went past and planted three sharp swats across his butt. Not little swats either! So hard, Jamie found himself skipping forward at each whack.

"OW", Jamie couldn't help it; he really wasn't quite expecting the ass beating to start quite so early. "That hurt!"

"Not nearly enough, buddy." His father murmured in his ear as he held the door open for him. Jamie jumped in and settled in the middle of the bench seat, Gramps got in on his right and his father behind the wheel on his left.

They backed up and pulled the trailer out of the driveway and headed for home.

XXX

It was a quiet if short ride home. Neither Gramps nor Dad said anything. All Jamie did was sit in between them and try to calm his breathing down. Neither his grandfather nor his father seemed particularly worried about their own breathing though.

The truck pulled up to have Uncle Sam and Uncle Jamie jump off the hay truck, both has shucked their shirts and were sweating bullets in the hot Texas air.

"Is he okay?" Uncle Sam asked pulling Gramps door open.

"For now," Gramps said quietly.

"Ads, can you put Mac up for me? I'll be in to check on him in a minute" His father nodded to Adam who nodded back, carefully dropping the ramp to the trailer and leading the black gelding out. Mack backed out and started cropping the short grass in front of the barn like he was famished. Like a mad gallop through the woods and jumping over trees and fences made a young horse hungry. Adam gave him a tug and the gelding looked longingly at the grass but obediently followed Adam into the barn.

"You." Dad pointed at Jamie. "Upstairs, your room, right now."

"Can we talk, Dad? I mean before hand?"

"I'm thinking no – right now I have a horse to tend to but maybe we can have a pre-chat right here – a warm up so to speak."

"No, sir. Heading to my room." Jamie scampered out of his father's reach as Dean headed to the barn to give a thorough examination of his horse.

Fifteen minutes later his father opened the door to Jamie's room, "You are damn lucky, son. Lucky that you are all right first of all, you could have been killed! And lucky that Mac is okay. Do you know how punishing jumping like that is for a young horse? He could have bowed a tendon or given himself a stress fracture. He's too young to be doing that kind of work."

"I wasn't planning on the jumping, Dad – I was just going to walk through the woods but then Mac decided to take off at a fast lope and we were having such fun! Then there was the tree and it was jump or crash so I opted for jump! He jumped beautifully although he left a stride out so it was huge! But it was all just an accident! I didn't plan it!"

"You weren't _planning_ on it?" his father asked incredulously, "Because it sure seemed to me this was planned, right down to fake excuses, lies, stealth and stealing."

"Okay so part of it was planned but not hurting Mac. I would never hurt Mac."

"And Mac would never hurt you but look what almost happened!" Dad started yelling again, then pacing in the small room. Jamie tried to make himself as small as possible.

"You are nine years old for cryin' out loud. You are old enough to know better. Have I ever let you ride that horse before?"

"No, sir."

"Why?"

"Because he's a baby, and green and likely to get excited…but Dad I was riding him great even with no saddle! He was listening and everything. And if it hadn't been for that damn tree…"

"What you say?"

"Darn tree, that darn tree, well, we would have been back before you knew we were gone!"

"And that's better somehow? That you would have managed to deceive me, steal from me and sneak away! Plus what if you had been hurt really, hurt! I wouldn't have known where you were or to even start looking until afternoon!"

"But I wasn't hurt, Dad" Jamie tried valiantly.

"Well, that's being remedied right now."

Dad reached over and grabbed Jamie by the belt hoops and belt and gave him a quick tug and pulled him to his bed, unbuttoning his blue jeans and unhooking his belt. "Damn button down blue jeans, "he muttered, "who the hell puts buttons on blue jeans? There should be snaps and zippers, always snaps and zippers."

Jamie stammered, "I can do it, Dad."

"Haven't you done enough for today?" His father managed to unbutton and unbuckle then dragged both jeans and underwear down in one fell swoop. He sat down hard on the bed and plunked Jamie over his knees with little preamble. Jamie was sure his butt was already a little pink from the hard as nails swats he got earlier, but that didn't seem to bother his father one bit. He swatted hard and fast. Side to side, one butt cheek, the other and sometimes right down the middle. Jamie had a pretty small butt so even one hand did quite a number on him. Then he jerked him roughly up and started on that sensitive crease between butt and thigh. It was maddening and it stung like hell. Jamie yelled then on top of the whimpering he was already doing. That had no effect on the ass kicking either, in fact, it seemed to make his father more determined to spank harder. Or maybe Jamie was just so sore by now it seemed harder. Then he went back to the butt cheeks. Jamie's face had to be as red as his ass, he was bracing himself with his hands on the floor but he hated his head below his ass. He always had. Of course the only time his head was below his ass was when he was doing handstands in gym or getting his butt kicked by a Winchester. Then his father started hard right where he sat down, boy, oh boy he was not going to want to sit tonight and probably not tomorrow either. Jamie wailed,

"Dad, please, I'm sorry, I won't…" He didn't have enough breath to finish the sentence.

"I know you won't because if you do, you'll get a spanking every night for a week. You think this one hurts, Jamie boy. Try a stunt like this again and I guarantee getting your butt roasted every night will make this seem like a walk in the park."

But his father didn't stop spanking during the small lecture; he kept right on spanking and then decided to work on the top of Jamie's thighs. Jamie howled then and started crying in earnest, deep wracking sobs. It was then that his father stopped and dropped his burning right hand to Jamie's sweaty neck. Jamie was inconsolable. He cried and cried until he could cry no more. His father just left him over his lap, butt still bare and smoking for a bit, then when the sobs started to turn into halting breaths he helped Jamie up pulling up his underwear for him. Jamie never remembered a spanking this hard – even when he got lost in the tornado last year. He started to cry again then stopped abruptly.

Jamie shook his head when his father tried to pull up his jeans. "Don wan 'em"

"Okay, son."

His father sat down on the bed and shook hand hard, apparently trying to reduce the sting as Jamie turned his back to his father.

"I don't wanna talk to you either." Jamie's voice quavered and he wiped his eyes and nose on the short sleeve of his t-shirt.

"That's okay too."

"I'm mad…I, I,…" Jamie stuttered and turned at his father, green eyes blazing, "I hate you!"

Dad spoke quietly, "Yeah, well that will pass – I'm pretty sure I said that to your gramps once or twice. I know you're mad and you feel like you hate me – but I still love you and I'm not going to stop loving you, so you will just have to deal."

Jamie was thankful his dad didn't try to hug him; he didn't want his hugs, he didn't _need_ his hugs.

"You didn't need to be so mean." Jamie finally said turning back away, still sniffling.

"I wasn't mean at all, Jamie. You did something today that was one of the worse things I can think of. You lied to me – to my face – you -_with forethought_ - figured out a way to get what you wanted, even though I was very clear that it could not happen today. You disobeyed me. Then you took Mac, a very inexperienced horse _by yourself. _I can't even imagine what could have happened – what _did_ happen. All because you wanted to play with JR Banner. Something I let you do all the time – you almost live over his house but today I needed you home. You could have killed yourself. Then just to add insult to injury, you hurt my horse."

Jamie turned toward his dad, "Mac is hurt?"

"Not terribly but he will be sore tomorrow. I poulticed his legs and fed him a warm bran mash." Jamie couldn't help but smile just a bit; he sure enough had his father pegged sometimes.

"What's so funny?"

"I knew you'd poultice him and feed him a bran mash. It's like when I have a fever and you put a cool rag on my head and feed me home made chicken soup."

Dad smiled too. "I guess I'm pretty predictable huh?"

"I really didn't predict this, Dad." Jamie said taking a tentative step toward his father.

Dad didn't move but stayed where he was, "Well, you should have. I'm quite sure that you knew if you got caught there would be hell to pay."

Jamie sniffled softly, "I guess so but Mac?"

His father stood "I'll have the vet out tomorrow to do a more thorough check- I'm sure Mac is fine."

Jamie took another step and then folded himself into his father's arms, crying again.

"I don't hate you, Dad."

"I know, son." Jamie felt his father's large warm body around him, his dad smelled of hard work and hay, sweat and a little bit of fear. How could you smell fear? Jamie didn't know but that's what he thought. But overall, despite the overpowering maleness of him, testosterone and stink- that was the best word Jamie could think of and he didn't want to leave those warm sweaty arms.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry. I will never do that again." Jamie shuddered suddenly feeling cold despite the heat of the day.

"I know you won't, son."

Then his dad did something he hadn't done in a while, he scooped Jamie up, carefully avoiding his butt and held him tightly. Jamie wrapped his legs around his father's hips and just lay there with his head on his shoulder.

Jamie was glad Gramps and his uncles were out at the barn. He felt like a baby in his father's arms but he also felt safe. He was nine, not six but he enjoyed it anyway. His father kissed his head and murmured low into his ear.

"Sshhh, Jamie. It's alright."

And it was.

end


End file.
